


Watercolour Whiskey

by Peacekeeper_Revolvcr



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Accidental Plot, M/M, Memory Loss, Pre-Recall, Reunions, Tragic Romance, Unresolved Emotional Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-10
Updated: 2017-03-26
Packaged: 2018-10-02 05:16:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10210400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Peacekeeper_Revolvcr/pseuds/Peacekeeper_Revolvcr
Summary: Forced out of hiding, the Gunslinger continues his pursuit of answers across the American Southwest narrowly avoiding bounty hunters and Talon alike while continuing to chase his leads on a lingering hunch. Funny that someone else happened to have the same idea.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [galactiicace](https://archiveofourown.org/users/galactiicace/gifts).



The silver tag clicked seven times before it finally rested into the palm of his metal hand, gripped firm between tinny fingers and he shook his head.

The gunslinger had been stalking the newly planted Talon base for four days, and following the incident with the train he wasn’t willing to let bygones be; reputation and all that to upkeep. But more importantly, they held some answers to questions he’d been on the search of for the past several months. Months spent playing cat and mouse while barely kept under the radar only to be flushed out and plastered up just on the  west of Houston; an easy enough escape from their clutch but a hard made manuever back on the path for results.

But there was reason to believe _he_ was alive again.

First few weeks he thought it a coincidence that Talon happened to run the same operatives he remembered briefly through the glory days. Old subterfuge, slighted hand to hand, and same hide and seek plays they did for kicks back on missions. It wasn’t until the third and fourth time running into Talon agents he’d realized they’d been trained. Just as he had. _Purposefully_.

Which now had only posed more time for watching the new facility; artillery and equipment strapped to the holsters of every roaming grunt, the ins and outs of those that came and went, the paths on their patrols that could provide him another opening. He’d wasted hours this way, surprisingly uncaught in his own head while a cigar hung loose between his lips as he flicked the old scoured dog tag between his fingers; listening to the hollow clicks of metal upon metal before twisting the plate up to view.

 **[ S.E.P  UNIT 8 ]**  
**[ 255 - 76 - 9410 ]**  
**[ A POSITIVE ]**  
**[ CHRISTIAN ]**

McCree had worn away the first couple lines, metal scraping the letters into a smooth, illegible curve; a haphazard made worry stone he’s kept in his pockets for years. Something there left a sour taste in his mouth, he suspected from the ash of his cigar and blew a plume of smoke billowed behind his lips, pocketing the tag. There was a nagging feeling that came with the weight in his pocket, trying to sift between the task at hand and whatever significance that slim piece of metal could’ve been. There was too much past digging lately, and with it old wounds were beginning to fester again. There were only a few things time and Deadeye hadn’t taken from him, frankly patience wasn’t one of them.

* * *

 He crept along the rooftops once he had managed to secure himself a landing spot, a elevated overhang that gave him access to the entire roof as well as some yards out from the facility entrance. It would be easy to sight intruders from a distance that didn’t include the shelf wall of rocky cliff that surrounded the back end of the building. Easily hidden, no real way around other than head on, unless you were looking from above as he was. It only took firmly planted drop and a swift strike of the blunt of his gun to nail the only sentry that guarded to the roof, watching him fall like dead weight at his feet before dragging him off to a discreet corner and politely setting him upright to rummage his pockets for anything useful.

Empty though lined with lint and spare coins, holsters stuffed with spare ammunitions he discarded and merely pitched over the back side along with the gun ( in case there were ideas to come should he wake up ), a blank surveillance card he ripped straight from the cord and the small red communicator that blinked a slow pulsing red. Pushing it to his ear, Jesse held his breath listening to the feed that had suddenly broke into chatter.

“—Thinks the agent is going to show back up. He’s been making stops again, and with him on the move we’re not sure if we can out gun this guy. He’s built like a fuckin’ tank.”  

“Quit your bitchin’, we’ve handled stuff like this before. One guy can’t take on a squad. He shows up we put a bullet in his head, end of story.”

 

 _Interesting_ , Jesse thought pulling the device from his ear and giving a quiet tip of his hat to the unconscious agent, spurs clicking along the roof as he strode his way for the door on the far side. Swiping the card, he pulled the handle at the sound of the click and stole away inside to the dark staircase that descended below.

Quiet placed foot falls lead him down the sleek staircase to smooth tiled floors, halls dimly lit as he peered through the corners and began his trek along the maze of gray walls and cable lines, sidling along the edges before he crossed them to their conjoining paths.  The further into the reach he went, more of the precinct grew lively; footsteps carried off in the distances matched by thrumming hums of monitors and mechanical chirps. He fished into his pocket for the small earpiece, folding back the wave of brown and slipped it tight beneath his hat, pressing onward with the new feed of idle chatter between the set of agents; mundane in their conversations to pass the time. Those clearly unsuspecting of the infiltrator amongst them.

 

“—Compound only has a handful between here and San Antonio. We’re not hurting for backup if we need it.”

“Think the big guy is gonna show back up again? He was pretty pissed last we heard. Nearly snapped Karth’s hand for passin’ in bad news.”

“If he shows up it’s gonna be for a good reason, they don’t send in the Reaper for small stuff.”

 

Reaper.  
The damn ghost he’d be on the hunt for years now, and finally there seemed to be more anchor to his affiliation though he’d never gotten too much of a long glimpse at him. Talon smothered him out before he had the chance, even with all his snooping around he’d done. Arizona was the closest he’d ever made it, and here offered the chance of a new cornerstone to his search.

Curling along the hall he kept close to the sides and listened for footmen, ducking away into the corners hearing those closing in; hiding amongst the shadows with his arm glowing dim beneath the folds of his serape before drifting back along the path that opened to a small vestibule between the crossing. Careful of much noise, he pushed for a nearby door, testing the handle and he lead himself inside, closing it quick behind him.

An office once dark soon illuminated by his presence of small, luminescent monitors; their soft lamp light bathed the room in blue as his eyes took in the mess of papers, tech and holofeeds of information all left absconded. Twisting the thumb of the lock he ambled to the desk and combed through pages, each emblazoned with redacted strips of black and highlighted fragments in bold yellow lines. Skimming McCree couldn’t make sense of them, moving on to cloudy photographs of open crowds, red boxes placed over blotted pixels of what seemed to be people. No distinct patterns noticeable. He pushed through papers, boredly grazing through what caught his eyes before a black folder emerged from underneath, plain and unlabeled.

He thumbed it open, formal letter heads stamping opening sheets before a plot of photos spilled from the pocket onto the desk.

Strange black and white glimpses of a shattered device, broken into fractured pieces around the base and its top lens. A busted rifle, the telescope completely blown apart where the barrel had snapped free; tallies painted across the bolt carrier in hoary lines. The next image he recognized as spent shell casings from his gun, glowing ribs along the bullets end from his precision rounds; a small cluster of them collected neat into a pile.

The last was an unfocused blur, a shadowy specter with a narrow strip that crossed vertically along its face. For what he could make out of a head and perhaps hair, it was cocked to the side looking directly back at him. Without a better look, it was easy to miss where the part of a mask began and the rest disappeared into a defunct grain of black. There was something familiar about it, not that he could place it, tucking the photos back into the pocket and pitching the folder back across the table. Wasn’t the current interest to what he was looking for.

Jesse bent into the monitors and squinted at its forsaken contents; series of codes, and old corresponding emails, a few unanswered notifications that blinked softly in the corner. Moving his hand across the monitor he pushed aside a few windows before the sudden voice nearly made him jump.

“You see that!”

“No. What?”

“I swear the radar picked up something!”

“The security would’ve went off.”

“Mason’s on the roof, he would’ve tapped in.”

 

He felt a vibrate hum through his ear, an irritating enough sense to claw the thing out and kept silent once the voice sounded more direct.

 

“Mason, copy in, over.”

His eyes caught sight of a hidden tab labeled SEC, and tapped a finger to it.

“Mason, you read, _over_?”

 

A flurry of screens appeared dotting every monitor with an image of security feeds, the rooftop, the halls he crawled through just moments prior and the darkened expanse of the night out ahead.

 

“Golan, he’s not answering.”

“He probably took a piss, relax.”

 

Jesse watched the monitors before seeing another flash dark through the dark, the monitor light blinking just barely before it was gone and the stillness taking over again.

“It did it again! Okay, something is out there.”  
“We’re in the desert, of course something is—”

Static suddenly breached the line, the conversation cut and soon even the static went with it. Pulling the piece out from his ear, he noticed the pulsing red had faded dormant useless between his fingers and frowned the minute he noticed a flicker to the monitors. One by one, each monitor blinked out into disconnected feeds, white text flashing error messages of malfunctions before a dull blast coughed from the front end of the building.  
“Aw hell.” Jesse mumbled, lights flickering before he was left alone in the dark. A shrill siren rang from the halls before emergency lights flickered on in a cardamine hue, shouting extending from somewhere further ahead echoed toward his safety in the little office and merged between the filtering chaos that trampled just beyond him. He had hardly any time to gather his bearings before snatching at the door, unthumbing the lock and egress into the elevated pitch of alarms and red.

Racing down another lane of halls, he maneuvered the newly lit paths in favour of the front avoiding the ensemble that all rushed ahead on barked orders and in disorienting pairs, coming upon a ledge that overlooked the bottom floor; Talon agents unified in a cluster around entry points while some disappeared into the sea of sand just ahead.

Crouched behind the ledge, McCree yanked the Peacekeeper from his holster; rolling open the chamber to six glowing shots before he snapped it shut and tucked himself into a cleave between the corner wall and the ledge, watching the doorway until another blast streaked through the entry and exploded into the wall just beneath his feet; glass shattering in a shimmer of fatal hail that made him rip the serape just enough over his face to avoid the storm of smoke and shards. There was a thunder of footsteps that broke through the front, a clattering array of chaos erupting between the cacophony of boots  that darted between the entry and a fight assembled below.

“Shutdown the premises! Don’t let him in!”

Another warning sounded before a heft of metal grates snapped shut along the walls shielding from the broken front end and echoed in segments across the building; warding them into a kill box cloaked in red lights. Pushing up from the hall, McCree backtracked through the labyrinth of smoke and found himself cut from the last place he diverted from and raced through another end as he pulled the scarlet folds tight across his lips and fended from the burning smell of broken foundation and cement.

The alarm droned on, every hall he one took leading to grated off dead ends until he stumbled upon a hall littered with dangling live wires that fired off sparks where the red lights couldn’t reach and pressed himself through the dark.

 

An eerie quiet washed the halls, the droning backdrop of the alarm the only sound resonating through his ears as the emergency lights began to blink in slow waves of red and black; more disorienting as he crept forward with the gun in tow and paused at every wink of light. The dark glimmered once again, footsteps scuffle in the dark ahead before the light rose and revealed nothing, drawing a breath hard in the gunslinger’s chest. Another step lead him down the emptied hallway, the soft chirps of his spurs just barely noticeable above the whine as the light faded again into dark. Seconds passed as the darkness lingered while his steps continued. The creeping edge of fear bristled the hairs along his neck as he reached the halls end and saw no other way than the one he came.

A small crack teetered from behind him, a faint light caught edge of the floor from the corner of his vision as his back went rigid and twisted his fingers along the grip. The light flickered on and with a fluid motion, he spun on his feet with the gun cocked directly down the sights of a figure at the end of the line. The same spectral figure from the photo looming at the end with a menacing gazed trained firmly on him. The lights made for nightmarish distortions upon the shadow ahead, obscuring all else but the peaks of broad shoulders and the red line burned at his view.

McCree licked his lips slowly, stilling his hand from the threat of making the gun rattle, waiting for the figure to move. The silhouette painted the obscure backdrop of a man, a rifle carried imposingly in his hands where his fingers tested the grips until the gun lowered briefly in align with his hip. Jesse took a step forward, the hallway darkens and the line tilts askew.

  
“What’re _you_ doing here…”


	2. Chapter 2

The question is enough to throw him, confused by its direction as the pressure builds tighter in his shoulders.

“Pardon?” He adjusts his grip along the gun and sturdies himself. A faint familiarity reminded him of this set up before—a time when he had first seen the Reaper, caught face to face between the oscillation of red lights and dead ends. Same scenario. Different ghost.

The figure adjusted the rifle to the floor, leaning into the propped end of the gun against his hip and made the visor flicker in movement, its limited gaze unreadable—a safeguard that made Jesse even more nervous the longer they came to draw. He never liked a man whose eyes he couldn’t see. Could never gauge their weight or see just how willing they were to gamble.

“I don’t got time for this. I suggest you make yourself scarce, or not stand _in my way_.” By then it was clear he wasn’t looking for a fight, not with guns at least as his shoulders sank and he dropped the PeaceKeeper back into the holster at his hip. Surely stubbornness wasn’t beyond him following with purpose behind him in a firm footed march.

“I don’t think you get to go ‘round makin’ the rules here, fella. I was here _first_. I don’t aim for any trouble ‘less you gonna make for some.” The man paused through the wires, unphased by the streak of sparks that skittered a bright rain across his shoulders and singed the leathers of his jacket. The glint briefly dance away from the embellished ‘ 76 ‘in a stark snap of light as the visor crossed over his shoulder and seared its red shadow.

“Seeing as you already made for trouble, you’re not as _covert_ as you think you are.” He soldiered forward, though a lilt in his voice suggested a smile. The pause left Jesse standing in the hall between the fizzled snap of wires and currents, watching the broad stature appear in the spotlight of red across the hall and pursue around its corner. McCree pushed aside the ropes of wires, hissing at the one that caught his hand and peered to watch the careful prowl of the stranger along the hallway.

 

By now, he’d long gotten used to the alarm that rang in echoes across the building, and with grated ends sealed shut there wasn’t much else to do other than navigate its series of opened halls until coming across something worth investigating. He booted behind at a distance, kicking past rubble and debris that had blown in from the assault at the front and watched the sturdy posture of the stranger’s patrol;  a military guided stance that was stiff and rigid at the hips, the gun held at resting position but his keen eye could tell he was prepared to shoot with his finger poised atop the trigger. Slim, curt and professional. He wasn’t just some wild gun, despite a recklessness and its disregard, his intents were hardly low-profile.

“So what’s your point in bein’ here then?” McCree called from the end, hands propped along the belt and noticed the slight twitch in immaculate posture; a jump that caught him from unexpected conversation.

“Not now.”

“When?”

“Not soon.”

He huffed, snarling behind the curl of his lip as his eyes rolled from the shoulders and followed the pattern made in the tiles.  
“ _Hardass_.”

He glanced to see there was a small bounce in his shoulders ahead—a quiet chuckle.

Continuing in silence, they meandered in quiet together, Jesse keeping a distance as he watched the odd strategy of pauses and thoughtful gauges between breaks in the halls before the man pressed onward. It had only then lead them through a much larger set of doors that stretch apart from the better end of facility, where small junctures sat in rows along the walls edge; a grid where lasers would’ve warded entry but had blinked out once the alarm was sounded. Jesse observed the stranger tap the small black pad with his fingers and pushed a palm flat against the door hoping for a budge, but nothing moved.  
“Not used to seeing passcodes much anymore. There must be failsafes keeping manual unlocks blocked off.”

Spurs clicked along the floor, as the gunslinger produced the small card he pocketed from the roof and hovered it slightly over the pad around his shoulder. A mechanical chirp sounded and a green light blinked followed by the hefty slip of a bolt unlatching from the door.

“Ain’t _covert,_ now am I.”

There wasn’t a need to wait, pushing along past him in through the double doors and entering a large room filled with assorted monitors displayed upon the desks, their large glass medians blinking the same cryptic sigil of Talon’s moniker and a larger terminal screen that sat idle with a blinking cursor. It held a similar setup as the same room he came from a few halls down prior the second intrusion, papers left in neat piles while some littered the floor; suggesting a hurry.

“What the hell was goin’ on—”

 

**[ “RESEARCH 2 ACCESSED. PERSONNELS DETECTED. INITIATING STALEMATE.” ]**

 

As the mechanical voice concludes the hefty weight of the bolt lock shunted closed and a descending chirp flashed the indicating light to red; locking them into the lab. Quickly the stranger reached for the handles, forcing a firm grip to the door that gave no hesitation at his pull.  
“Hand me the card.” His hand extended behind him, fingers impatiently gestured with a beckon.

 

“The room’s locked up, shutdowns need overrides. We ain't in no control room.”

 

“Give me the damn card.”

 

A hard grit clicked along his teeth as defiance pushed the pass back into the back of his pocket, arms crossed full over his chest as the brim of his hat obscured the sharp glare in his eyes. “Card won't work under a stalemate. ‘Less you wanna waste some gunfire pickin’ at a wall, we’re stuck until the security is back on. I say we cut our losses an’ start rootin’ through things in the meantime.” He flicked the tattered end of his serape across his shoulder, yanking off the sweaty glove and stuffed it into the depth of his pocket, smearing the rough edge of his palm across his jeans. Regardless of the business the stranger had suddenly made, Jesse had that of his own and planned to follow suit.

 

He lumbered to the closest desk to begin his investigation, scattering the dust of pages all redacted and marked up like unfinished drafts, some nearly written completely in numeric code or jargon he wasn’t completely comprehensive on. Talon were hard at work attempting to keep prying eyes from their findings, their acquisition of information that he had come to discover was getting bigger with every run in. They were the same stamped pages he found in Arizona, marked with the sigil and black bars. All containing something he couldn’t decipher.

Moving along, he pushed through contents on the desk before finding a glass holoplate, and watched the screen thumb alive at his touch, displaying the lingered annotations.

 **[** **Pursuits have been assigned combat units.** ****  
**Those responsible for collections will begin at 0200.  
** **Diagnostics for Athena restoration will be assessed for  
** **Revision.   #00087453                                                          ]**

 

 **[** **Active pursuits are now engaged.  
** **All collections will be externalized for Talon oversight.  
** **Extractions please be advised pursuits are hostile and will require alternative** ****  
**Methods.  
** **Reconfigure for SEC protocol every interval change.  #00087459            ]**

 

 **[** **R--P-R CO-F--MED FR-- DI-GNO--ICS T- -E F-RM-- M-LI-N- -F ZU--H.  
** **BE A---ED ---N E---G-N- W--H CO-RO---ED A--NT.  
** **S--ER--R C----ND W--L A-ES- T-- C----SPON--NG FI--D W---  
** **[ENTRY CORRUPTED]                                                                                   ]**

 

Thoughtfully Jesse chewed at his lip, fingers skimming through interfaced entries until he came upon blanks and jumbled arrays of errors. Pressing information that could prove useful but there was no weight. He wouldn’t know what to do with it.

Behind him, the stranger had begun his own work, focused intently over a computer as he yanked a small device from a pouch at his hip keeping a palm hovered securely over it and watched the display flicker its red screen replaced by a blue one.

 

“So you ain’t just a heavy gun then…” Jesse remarked, tossing the plate back behind him and propped himself against the desk, watching at his back where fingers worked meticulously at a few series of keys before a new screen appeared labeled, “ARCHIVES”.

 

“You’d be amazed some of us have brawn and brains, we don’t go runnin’ on our looks.” The visor caught a glimpse of him, an uncomfortable bristle curling along the back of his neck being caught under its red lamp. “If you’re inclined to stand there, you oughta make yourself _useful_ somehow.”

 

“I had things under control, ‘fore you showed up an’ damn near shut the building down. Why’re you even here to begin with, this place went up a week ago. It ain’t even on the map!”  


“You think you’re the only one that’s been snooping around trying to get answers for the past few years? Come on _Jes_ , you’re smarter than that.”

 

A low burning heat kindled within his chest, one that caused the involuntary flex of metal digits beneath his arm to bend in a tight coil so hard the carbon metal creaked. His eyes made for sharp daggers with a hard flex in his jaw, a guarded scrutiny that burned him something fierce from his spot.

“Don’t pretend that you know me.”

 

There was a gritty laugh that came from the interloper, his posture corrects to a statuesque height as he taps a key and the monitor flashes with a brief loading screen and images, articles and text all beginning to surge the screen in rapid succession. Labeled at the top of the search was “MCCREE”.

“I know who you are, I’ve seen the news.”

 

Jesse watched the assembly of security photos, old articles, and even the warrant of his bounty appear before his eyes drop back on the man; the muscle in his arm twitching in reach for his holster.

“News ain’t much when they twist it.”

 

“You’ve got a point.”

 

“...So what, you lookin’ for me then?” He muttered, a dry taste working his mouth in the unsettled anticipation that he would be caught not only in a Talon facility, but by a possible bounty hunter.

The stranger looked up to the monitor and sighs, hands pushing through the display and tossing aside the bulks of correspondence, even sweeping the evolution of bounty posters aside in favour of the blurred image of Jesse’s back; signature serape brushed across his shoulders and the hat tipped low over his face lost amongst a crowd yet somehow remarkably easy to spot, if you knew what you were looking for.

 

“...Not on purpose, no.” With a sweep of his hand the images were gone and returned back to a blank screen. “You just happened to blip the radar a few times.” He stood quiet a minute, an unreadable disposition of silence as his hands folded back behind him, rigid with a hesitation at the small of his back. Jesse noticed his thumb brushing slow against the strap of the red glove.

He slumped back against the desk, and looked him over again from the peak of dusty white hair down to the soles of his boots, head cocked to the side in study—a lingering feeling at the back of his mind that somehow he’d seen this posture before. Albeit living with fuzzy memories he didn’t think much of it the first time seeing him in the darkened hallway backlit by red lights but something here, had seemed familiar.

Seemed _off_.

 

“I didn’t quite catch your name.”

 

“That’s because I didn’t give it to you.”

 

“Seems fittin’, since you know mine I know the name of my company.”

Surprisingly it earned him a laugh, short and simple through the hardened grit that made for a pleasant ease of the silence. The stranger sank into the same lean that mirrored Jesse’s as he composed himself in a retired position against the desk, the visor’s vibrant reflect casting a faint light across the spread of the floor toward his boots, a brighter streak cut through its middle. All loose of military stature became the soft compress of causality; palms flat against the edge of the desk with ankles neatly cross at the joint.

 

“Take it you don’t read the news much.”

 

“Try not to. All things considered.”

 

“That’s fair.” A gloved finger tapped on the edge of the desk, the visors glance casted away and made McCree press into his lean, the build in his shoulders dropping and waited impatiently to be obliged.

 

“A _name_?”  


“Soldier 76. What the _official reports_  refer to me as, anyway.”


	3. Chapter 3

Grim familiarity jogged the memory of a recent string of heists and thefts made within the middle of the States and then some, he should’ve guess by the identifying number that it recalled to some moniker of anonymity. All the more it made him nervous, and kept an unconscious track of the weight at his hip.

 

“Suppose I heard of you, stirrin’ up ‘round the old Watchpoint upstate. Seen your picture here an’ there...Pegged you more—playin’ _both sides_ kinda guy.” What little he could recall of the news had been swept far into the dusty library of his mind, deep in the junctions of what was necessary and what was forcibly erased through the rage of Deadeye’s perennial influence. Pieces were all that remained now, and even then there wasn’t any salvageable to be worth much.

Yet there came some relief knowing that he stood between a seemingly evenhand amidst the chaotic odds of Talon’s efforts, someone else that was just as curious of their intentions as he was. However misguided the vague motivation.

 

The Soldier gave a curt shrug, and rose his head with attention shifted back toward gunslinger, the ends of his fingers drum a small rhythm across the desk edge; the blaring of the alarm from outside coming back as filler to the silence. McCree watched as all the subtle twitches of nervousness began to emerge, brows pulling in as he studied awkward hands and the wag of one foot before he shifted to recline against his elbow along the surface.

 

“Take it you’re _old news_ then.”  Scared fingers reached to pushed the brim of his hat from his forehead, smearing away the beads of sweat before removing it completely. He tousled through his hair, combing slow from the crown through long strays of brown that swept back and fell in return across his ears; his own nervous habit that kept him from the intense focus of the red sight. Another pause in the silence that seemed limitless between them.

 

Soldier’s hands pressed behind the thick of his neck, rubbing at the dull ache between his shoulders.   
“Yeah, somethin’ like that.” There began something else, arms readjusting their position into his lap where his fidgeting wouldn’t be obviously seen, shoulders falling to certify what words had failed him. “Ain’t entirely what I used to be but...none of that really matters. Things change. _People_ too.” The visor was pointed at Jesse, for what little he could catch struck an unnerving feeling again.

 

“Lookin’ for someone that changed then?” He regretted asking the moment he said it, a question revealing in his own that felt far too personal to give away so freely. The years he’d spent living on a hunch and its whim that served some chance Gabriel was alive. Which now could only spell foul things in the works for the dead to suddenly resurface, after years of nothing.

Somehow he could tell this was a sore subject from the malaise in the man’s tired response; face downturned, legs uncrossed to sturdy himself to the floor for a hint of grounding. He almost warned him from trying to answer before Soldier lifted from the desk and turned himself away back toward the terminal.

The keystrokes tacked across the room, Jesse’s eyes watching the monitor filtering with quick commands before they caught the word REAPER within the margin.

 

“Sure you’ve seen this one before.” Several images appeared in scattered compositions, those looking official while others fuzzy candids of the wight cloaked in black, the obscured mask that bore a beak and hollow pockets in its skull. Unconsciously his throat tightened, of all the blotched memories trapped within confines of old wounds his muscles remembered them more.

Claws sharp around his windpipe, the sinister dust of his voice that still made his skin crawl and the ghost of fear ever present.

 

**_You look lonely, cowboy…_ **

 

“Seen him a few times.” McCree nodded, pushing up from the desk and snatching his hat from the ledge with another quick push through his hair before he replaced it atop his head. “Had a run in with ‘im a while back, hadn’t realize he was gettin’ popular.” He stepped toward the monitor, a slow pace that soon matched beside Soldier76 as his eyes took in the details of what was displayed between them. A bitter taste that itched the depths of his throat. He craved a cigar just to take the edge off.

 

Soldier reached for the screen pushing aside photos and found his attention caught on a small ledger that was hidden between the tabs, and tapped its attention to the front. The screen began to flicker in broken fragments of pixels, red encodings stretched through the programing as the text warped in and out of view.

 

 **[** **THE SU----T HAS BE-- RECOV---- AND INIT-----ED UNDE- --E ICARUS EF--CT.  
** **PR-----TIONS FO- TH- ---UCEUS PRO---OL H-VE B--N AC---ED A-- PROC-----  
** **W--- ATTE--- RESTORATION. A-- AUTH---ZED PE----NELS ARE A---ED T-- PROP--  
** **REG----ONS S--ULD -HE RES------ON ----LT I- FAILURE.                                                ]**

 

“Talon isn’t exactly outside their realms in basic fanfaire, they seem to be in the acquisition phase of whatever it is they’ve been after. Starting with some of the _bigger_ competition.” Exiting the tab, Soldier typed in another set of names with the first pulling a cord within Jesse’s chest, making the hard lump unbearable to push down his throat; it's hot knife carving a path from his neck down the middle of his chest. Teeth pry at the chapped skin of his lip as he looked at the loading page before the screen flickered to an emptied entry.

 

**[ ANA AMARI : TERMINATED ]**

 

The next soon filtered in, and Jesse felt himself heedlessly turn away.

 

**[ JACK MORRISON : TERMINATED ]**

 

“What exactly are you lookin’ for here? These are former Overwatch— _Founders_ , th’hell would Talon even want with ‘em?” He looked from the floor wanting to avoid the resurgence of things he had well put behind him, the severity of his eyes fleeting as he noticed Soldiers rigid attention was fixed on the empty page and its foreboding confirmation blinking idly in result. A staggered inhale pulled the leather of his jacket in a tight creak across his chest before relieved and the peaks of his shoulders sagged a little heavier, fingers paused just above the console before recoiling against the lip of the desk. “Did you know ‘im?”

 

“Everyone knew him.”

 

“No,” Jesse huffed, brushing his thumb across a fray in his serape. “I mean personally.”

 

Brevity wondered what this stranger looked like, what he was thinking trapped in the purview of the visor that stared at the screen with body language that spoke of conflicted stages of grief. Anger twisted in his fingers. Depression cumbersome between his shoulders. Legs barely accepting until some form of cognizance noticed Jesse staring.

“No, I didn’t know him personally.”   


Jesse nodded quietly, pushing his hand into his jeans and felt his fingers brush past the crumpled packet of the cigars and wrap around the cool metal at the bottom.

 

“Did you?” The red vision focused on him, and suddenly Jesse felt a heat to his cheeks; a bewilderness to a question he wasn’t quite prepared for and was quickly thrusted to the forefront of his mind. His fingers twitched around the tag.

His mouth felt dry.

 

“I did. Don’t...remember too much of him honestly. Knew that he was pretty important, vids’ll tell you that plenty.” His skin felt hot beneath the collar, as if he were answering somehow incorrectly though it was all in honesty; every force of thought drawing blanks in film grain and leaving him addled for what missing pieces there was to complete it. “I can’t really say much. Jack was a good guy, far as I knew. Lotta people asked a lotta things from ‘im, an’ ‘ventually it all caught up. Happens to the best of us.”

It still felt wrong.

 

“I see.” A quiet response accepted before he was convinced to type the last name, surprising the both of them when an error message appeared and the monitor began another series of glitches again.

 

 **[**        **G---IEL RE--S : CO-----ISE-** **  
****[ENTRY CORRUPTED]                ]**

 

The heat felt previously had soaked him cold enough that chills slithered across the back of McCree’s spine as the nervous apprehension of confirmation sank in. He couldn’t deny evidence of tampering when it flashed in his face like a flag of proof.

Teeth had finally ripped away the skin raw across the flesh of his lip, his chest abruptly acknowledging the weight of the chestplate strapped across his torso and caused a small wheeze constricted within his throat.

 

“Talon’s been targeting former Overwatch. There’s some reason to suspect you might be next on that list. It ain’t nothin’ new…” Soldier muttered, closing the tab until the screen adjusted back to the plain array of blue. “Been a few other hits taken, too. Couple other Watchpoints. Few old agents. Fear is, they’re planning something big after they managed to steal some valuable info. Kill some valuable people.”

 

“That sonuvabitch is alive…” Jesse whispered against his fingers, pushing the pad of his thumb against his teeth; his mind infinite elsewheres trying to fathom what there was to do next. What there was now the pursuit had led to a dead end between trap doors. Fingertips reach to brush between the crease in his brow as he felt the pill settle in his stomach and nodded. “Can’t—much say ‘m surprised. Who else is just gonna…. _teach_ everyone Blackwatch plays like it’s easy shit. ‘Less they’ve been on the inside since, God I ‘unno, _thirty_ some odd years.” His thumb flipped the tag in his pocket, slow back and forth motions rubbed along the texture of the numbers  before he pushed it back from his hand and shook his head. “Ain’t nothin’ we can do if they’re growin’ an’ we ain’t got no foundation to lean on. Overwatch ain’t comin’ back, UN buried that body long time ago. No way they’d dig it back up seein’ as half the remainin’ few are—outlaws.”

 

There came a scoff beside him, Soldier snatching the small device from beside the keyboard console and the small blink of the screen returning to the louring organization symbol. He pocketed the item, a look exchanged a moment amongst them before he was the first to withdraw himself.

“Not sure either. Don’t mind puttin’ up the good fight an’ all that but—this ain’t my fight just yet.”

 

“ ‘S not like we can just let it slide either, if they’re try’na run the last few into the ground least we can do is warn them!”

 

“ _You_ can!” There was a sharp impact of his voice that curled a knot in Jesse’s stomach. “This doesn’t involve _me_.”

 

“Well for someone who’s all cloak an’ daggers you sure as hell know your way ‘round protocol. I ain’t stupid, so you can spare me the downplay. I know military types. I know _Overwatch_ types...an’ you’re fittin’ a lotta boxes.”

 

The march was swifter between several quick steps until their heights were evenly matched, Soldier’s stature distended in an imposing height where the visor had burned its calescent gaze into his amber eyes, enough to make him squint under its light but remain undeterred. His spur clicked as he stepped forward, and jut his jaw forward; the brim of his hat enough to tap the peak of his forehead where he had just noticed the beginnings of a scar.

 

“You _forgot_ me.”

 

The signs of a fight where lost by the errant statement, enough to make him rethink his step.

 

“Wait—”

 

Across the room the door jostled, quickly followed by the infantry of boots that had crafted shadows underneath.

 

“SEC reports an access in Research two! They might’ve come through here!”

 

Before there was any exchange the two of them dispersed the floor, Jesse quickly rolling himself behind the corner end of a desk and away from sight and pulling the revolver from his hip. His hand did a quick check of the chamber, relaying through the inventory of his ammunitions as he felt his heart thunder between his ribs and yanked his thumb across the hammer. There wasn’t enough time to peek the corner in check of Soldier’s whereabouts but there was enough reasoning that he had slipped himself into position before the doors rattled again and burst open with a flagrant bath of red light that dimmed before it resurged. Heavy armoured boots trampled across the panels of the research room—five, perhaps six sets—while a stillness befell the room that invited in the warning sound behind them.

 

Jesse clenched the revolver tight against his chest, seconds seeming like hours as he listened to the spread of the agents beginning to shuffled amongst the clusters of desks and attempted to curl himself tighter against the panel. He licked his lips slowly as he felt the prowl of a presence waiver close beside his spot, and slowly counted to ten.

The body of an agent paused just between the empty space of his desk, the shadows of red spanning across the folds of tactical gear and the auto-rifle between his hands while he stood in place and quietly looked about the room. And with a swift kick, Jesse sent his boot in the back of his knee with a swift snap of his leg, stirring a cry from the agent before he collapsed forward on his knees.

All chaos broke loose as a hailstorm of bullet fire sprayed against the back of the research hall, Jesse falling back into the pocket of the desk as he fired the pair of shots into the agent’s back before watching him crumple against the floor in a tangled heap. Preparing for the assault of agents for his position, he was stunned to hear the scream over the sound of the security alarm before a body went soaring over the length of the room and crashed into the wall just before Jesse’s feet; rolling into a pile beside the other body.

 

Jesse pushed himself from the floor and slid into view of Soldier’s shadow defined by the pulsing light of the hall, agents overcoming him while his arm swung in a vicious arc that struck across the chin of agent and made their head snapped backward from the blow. Watching the flow of the fight, Jesse poised the gun between the fray and aimed clean for a neck, crackling gunfire echoing harsh against his ears before another body fell and allowed the chance for 76 to clear the space. Jesse leapt forward to help, narrowly dodging the deft swing of the bulky rifle that slammed against the temple of an agent caught behind him, sending his boot flat across the vest and stumbling backward with a press of the trigger.

  
Bullets spattered in a rapid fire burst, and a sudden hot searing pain had caught Jesse in the hip before he had the chance to move.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And sure enough here's where things get interesting, hope you're having fun cause there's definitely more to come!


	4. Chapter 4

He crumbles to his knee, slamming the metal brace to the floor that sent a shockwave through the nerves in a painful throb across his hip; the heat burning against the fringe of his shirt and ran slick through the band of his jeans. Before he could push himself to his feet, he looked just in time at the butt end of the Talon agent’s rifle coming prompt across his face and felt the split tear across the bridge of his nose in messy strings of blood. 

 

A hand seized at the folds of his serape around his neck, pulling Jesse backward from the floor with a vicious yank that tore his hat from atop his head. He swung the metal arm in a brutal blow, fending off from the agents that swarmed him until a hand seized a hold of his head and pulled him back by the hair to his knees. Before there was time to react, the bulk of the helix rifle had whipped against the agent caught between the few that split Soldier from his side and tossed the flimsy body into the glass monitors with a snarl augmented by the visor. The agent attempted to react, a quick spray of the trigger catching the lumbering man in the shoulder who merely shrugged it aside as he snatched the rifle, tearing it from his fingers and cracked his fist harsh against the plated helmet. The Soldier stood firm between Jesse and the man that held his hair in a tightly knotted fist—a warning yank that steadied him as he wavered against the grip.    
  


“I suggest you let him go. And  _ maybe _ , I’ll make it less painful.” 

The agent’s grip tightened against Jesse’s hair, drawing a hiss from the gunslinger’s lips as his head was yanked back and the cold end of the barrel pressed against his temple. 

 

“You sure you wanna bet on your friend’s life?” 

The stream of blood slipped across Jesse’s cheek and down through the bristles of his beard, iron bitter trickling across his lips with nostrils flared as he sucked in harsh breaths of air. There was a brief look at Soldier, who hesitated at the bait before Jesse revolved his arm against the rifle and yanked his head down against the fist of his hair. 

In the brief window Jesse heard the blast of gunfire just above his head, flinching from the echo sharp in his ear and held himself firm. The grip in his hair loosened before the body collapsed behind him, and he coughed through a shaken breath of relief. Swiftly Soldier76 was at his side, a hand catching him beneath them arm and pulling him forward. 

 

“On your feet, Jes.” 

 

“G-give me a minute...I can’t—”

 

“Jesse, we don’t have a  _ minute _ .” 

 

The hand snatched his hat before he pushed beneath the slack of underarm and hoisted him up to his feet, a painful resistance surging through the numbness that spread into his leg; the wet, sticky heat of blood bubbling from the hole in his side as he was propped against the other man’s hip 

 

“Hang onto me alright, we gotta move.” The nod was weak, but he understood, fingers tight into the leather strap of his jacket as he forced the adrenaline to push him forward through the disorienting rush that came from standing. Quickly they began to move, pressing onward into the hall of crimson light. 

* * *

 

Every step was more painful than the last, McCree’s eyes blinking through the fades of his vision as he let himself drift in awkward hobbles by the guidance of the hand on his belt and the other that held tight to the slim of his wrist. It was nearly impossible to concentrate through the throbbing ache in his head and face, tongue licking away the blood that had crusted across his lips. 

 

The slight raise in his face caught the stoic visor flashing between the crossroads of the hall before continuing their silent pursuit away from the mess they left behind. He hung his head toward his feet, letting the sway force him to keep his eyes open against the threat of stiff muscles and sickness getting the better of him. Sound began to drift between the echoes of things both unbearably close and eerily distant, the alarm a meager hum compared to the haggard breaths he could hear coming from the soldier beside him. Jesse’s fingers tightened across his shoulder, attempting to steel himself despite the protest of pain in his side. 

 

“Wh-where are we headed?” Jesse breathed, blinking through the dots of his vision and gave up to hang his head between his shoulders. 

 

“There’s a few offices on the upper cross of the building, small spaces lost some power that might give us some cover for a while. How you holdin’ up?” 

 

“How long is it gonna take us?”    
  
“Jesse…”   
  


“Just answer me, alright…”

 

A snap of cement ahead made them both stiffen, the grip around the thick leather belt tightens as Soldier quickly yanks him into his side and the two quick step across the hall as fast as they could muster through the aches and pains of the fight. Isolated scuffles of boots trickled in from far off halls followed by the shouts that disappeared behind them. Before Jesse could properly ground himself he was yanked into a small pocket of the hall that was obscured by the dark, enough to occupy their bodies parallel to each other so close the breathing room was slim for comfort. 

 

The red glint of Soldier’s visor turned away from the hall, Jesse confused by the sudden closeness that had their breaths nearly inches apart before the sudden thunder of footsteps marched along past them; a chopped squad of agents filing to move in on the sudden report of their former whereabouts. Jesse swallowed back the knot in his throat, his breaths short and uneven in the small space that smelled of blood and ammunition. His hand pressed against the shoulder keeping him from toppling away and briefly rested there a moment hoping to will the spins gone. 

 

“You alright?” The harsh voice whispered into the dark, face still twisted away though Jesse could feel the hints of finger tips at the bend of his hip, grasped across the belt. Jesse slowly nodded, patting his shoulder gratefully as he pushed himself up with a small hiss. Sweat beaded his brow, a chill running down his spine at the slip of blood he felt rush below his belt and further down the side of his jeans beginning to cool. 

 

“Yeah. W-we better make it quick.”

 

Jesse held himself back as Soldier shifted against him, leaning out into the hall and waited for the space to settle before guiding Jesse back into the cradle of his side and beginning down the length of the hall once more. 

They crept through the debri, more carefully this time, Jesse swallowing through breaths as he was guided along cautiously navigated hallways and came upon the break that twisted into a set of stairs. Briefly they paused, gathering themselves before painstakingly approaching their climb through each careful step; painful shocks that flexed the muscles in Jesse’s jaw, grinding harsh into the molars with every weight he pushed himself to endure until they reached the top in thankful relief. Nearly the entire floor was unlit, stray shocks of wires scattered electric dust across the floor before the embers flickered out. The red light of the Soldier’s vision was the lodestar, faint and flickering slightly as they wandered further into the deep. 

Jesse felt a hefty breath leave his chest, steps growing weaker but found through every push the fatigue grew thicker and harder to resist. 

 

“Hey, I can’t—”

 

“Through here.” Soldier mumbled, tugging him along toward a door and tested the knob, pushing it open to allow them inside. The light scanned the room as his hip pushed closed the door and locked it for good measure, swiftly discarding the rifle and Jesse’s hat before pushing him from his feet into the soft cushion of a chair against the wall. Pain flashed in his hip, fingers stiffly uncurling from the grip around his shoulder as he was eased down and smacked his palm against the bloodied pool that stained through the front of the plaid shirt. 

 

“Move your hand.” Soldier warned, pushing it away with an insistent huff. He reached for a handle across his hip, yanking a small knife from a decreet sleeve and a small yellow cylinder from the strap at his shoulder. “We’re gonna have to cut this out, alright? Can’t mend it with the bullet still in there.” The hard swallow curved down the back of his throat, pushing deep into his gut as Jesse licked across the blood and raw sting of his lip, nodding with a slow tilt of his head before it wobbles back against the wall. He feels the stray of his hands, rough and cold from the gloves push aside the serape from his shoulders and began to unthread the buttons from the bottom. 

 

“What—”

 

“Relax, ‘m just trying to get to the bullet hole.” The gloves peeled away the sticky smear of his shirt from hair and skin to the gaping hole that pierced just above his hip bone in a ragged tear. Jesse watched through lidded eyes as Soldier grabbed the knife and immediately seized in his seat. Bracing his hands, Jesse took a staggering breath and held it tight in his throat; eyes squeezing closed as he felt the tip of the knife’s cold edge reach his skin. 

 

“Hold still for me, okay. I’ll make it as quick as possible.”

Every second felt grueling, the knife slipping into wound through the dark, wedging into the tear of muscle that jerked Jesse back into the seat with a peal of agony through his teeth. He felt the second twist again, the grip of metal fingers so tight along the chair arm he’s sure he heard a snap  beneath his hand. Trying to maintain himself, the pain was enough to make him lightheaded, already so much blood lost from the combination of his face and the hole Jesse was sure the pain threshold had exceeded its peak. There was a sharp twist that made him yelp, opting to bite hard across his knuckles to withhold the snarls of pain. 

 

Another tug scraped along the inside of his hip before the wet pop of the bullet clattered to the floor, and blood dribbled down the shaped line along his lap. McCree gasped at the freed wound in his side, its weight lessened as he relaxed into the painful sharp breaths that echoed softly in the room and sank deep into the cushion as his fatigue caught up. Soldier pulled the end of the serape from his shoulder and pressed it firm against his hip, guiding Jesse’s hand to do the same and he smeared the blade across his leg; pushing it back into the holster at his side. Grabbing the cylinder from the floor, he twisted the cap before a surge of bright radiant light burst from the tube and pulsed in soft, healing glow between them. 

 

His limbs felt warm, the strength returning slowly as he unstiffened and let its healing effects take over, his vision returning to the bleary sight of the orange hue that mixed shadows across the room. Amber eyes lifted to the imposing form that loomed over him, watching Soldier rub a hand over his shoulder from where the bullets had merely ripped the leather and only bruised on impact. 

 

“Thank you.” He mumbled, stirring the light’s gaze on him before Jesse closed his eyes. 

 

“Sure.” 

“What now? Other than gettin’ the hell outta here?”

 

“We aren’t leaving ‘til the field goes down. We’ve got some time to kill so you have the chance to recover from that, you’re lucky we even got the bullet out.” 

 

Jesse rolled his head back to obscure the shift in his eyes and pressed harder into the side of his hip, feeling the wet smear of blood through the fray of his serape. 

 

“Fine. Ain’t like I can move much anyway….how you holdin’ up?” 

 

Soldier didn’t say anything moving from the chair in a brisk walk across the room. The silence made Jesse antsy, fidgeting from his spot in a small shift as he watched the particle glow shimmer from the cylinder at his feet. He listened as the footsteps paced quietly around the back wall, the visors gaze keeping strictly away from him with hands kept in a neat fold behind him; thumb fidgeting against his palm.

 

Nervous again. 

 

“Where you from?” Jesse asked, sinking into the seat with a huff, kicking the ends of his boots out until the spurs rolled lazily against the floor to a stop. Soldier twisted slightly, attention catching the relaxed position before his pace continued; looking back to the mundane wall hangings littered across the wall. He stood before a spot, his thumb tucked back into the depth of his hand before his shoulders dropped. 

 

“Why’s it matter?” 

 

“Cause I said so.”

 

“Jes—”   
  
“Just answer th’damn question, will ya. Ain’t like ‘m gonna remember it anyhow.” 

He watched the brief flash of hesitation tense in his shoulders, hands adjusting in position for a moment. 

 

“Arlington.” 

 

“Was it nice?”

There was a sharp snort to question, something laced in his voice with a bitterness Jesse couldn’t quite place.

“I wouldn’t really know. Didn’t stay long enough to find out.” 

 

“Not your kinda place then, I reckon?” The gunslinger folded his hands across his lap, the warmth softly humming through his muscles as the biotic field shimmered dimly in the dark. Soldier twisted to meet his gaze, something curious in the way his head leaned to observe the lax position as he crossed the room to the desk and hiked himself onto the corner with an ankle crossed over his knee. 

 

“Not really, I guess. Had business to tend to elsewhere.”

 

“Man on a mission.”

 

“Mhm.” 

Closing his eyes Jesse let himself relax a moment, the throb in his hip nothing but a dull ache by then, the effects restoring what vigor he’d lost through the whole ordeal and even soothed the headache that jogged his head from the blunt end of the rifle. He could feel the tingling of the ambient light mending at the split along the bridge of his nose, scrunching it into lines as he focused on the prickles.  

 

“What happened to your arm?” 

 

His eyes opened, swallowing the sudden knot that choked back the exasperated huff caught in his chest. An old wound biotics hadn’t been able to ever really mend. Even after two years of learning to endure the loss. 

“Lost a bet.” He stated simply, hoping to avoid the need for specifics and despite the lingering look made by the intensely red gaze it seemed Soldier understood enough not to dig too deep. “How’d you get the visor?” 

 

76 chuckled, leaning into the desk as fingers combed through the soft grain of white hair, and rubbed tirelessly at his neck. 

“Lost a fight.” 

 

“Couldn’t have been that bad.”

 

“You ain’t know the half of it, kid.” There was an empty breath in the way he spoke, a distance that was more pronounced in the commanding voice that had lost its luster. An old hurt that lingered somewhere in there too. Jesse nodded, knowing just as well to leave it alone and let the attempts of pushing away remnants of painful things move in. They had endured plenty in the few short hours of being trapped, seemed unfair to force anything else out of it. 

 

The biotic cannister chimed softly with a few brief pulses, the light beginning to dim and turn the room dark once again. Noticing the fade, Soldier shifted uncomfortably against the desk, and dropped his foot to the floor. 

“Listen...I ain’t—exactly been  _ honest _ with you.” 

 

Jesse frowned, looking at him from the yellow light and nearly smiled. “I would’ve never guessed.” 

 

“McCree, I’m serious.” 

 

“Fella you ain’t exactly given me any reason t’believe half of what you said is true. ‘M simple, but I ain’t  _ dumb _ , if you’ve got your secrets, keep ‘em. Sure you’ve got your reasons, we all do.” 

 

“That—isn’t what I meant.” The red glare watched the field pulse slower,  a fulvid flickering through soft ambers that barely casted a light across his Jesse’s boots. 

 

“Then tell me.” 

 

“I don’t know if you’d believe me…” 

 

Jesse tilts his head, eyes watching the visors light slowly fade before the red gaze was gone and the room was barely lit by the golden halo on the floor. He hears a soft click from the shadows, and the quiet clatter of something set across the desk before his eyes make out the form blotted by the dark. The light was enough to glimmer across the steel of his cuffed boots, and reach his shins while every step marched forward under the pulse of the dying light. He swallowed as he watched the shadow approach, eyes fixed on the dark before the field dissipated and the darkness swallowed the expanse between them. A creep of anxiety washed through his chest, sensing the presence that shifted around him; eyes searching the inky blots of shapes in the dark before he felt the sudden push against his chest. 

 

Lips roughly catch him, pulling a breath from his throat that surprises Jesse against their force; a strange desire that caught him between a pair of lips so  _ familiar _ he could almost recognize their ghost. He felt the press of his tongue along the curve of his lip before allowing the sudden sweep that dusted the desert rose across his cheeks. Something he struggles to remember behind the requited exchange that struck a fire in his chest. 

 

His lips seemed to remember infinities his mind could not, all trapped behind the taste of like old smoke and gunmetal. Eagerness searching for answers between their linger, his body folded in the overwhelming tide of repressed memory that soon disappeared when the warmth of his lips did. Desperately his eyes searched the dark and found nothing but the stain of inky shadows, struggling hard to adapt. 

 

“Just...tell me if that jogged something.  _ Anything _ .” He was surprised to hear the rugged purr of his voice, unenhanced by the visor so close against his jaw, he could just barely feel his lips against his skin. A faint longing that urged him closer. 

 

“...You coulda at least bought a guy a drink first.” 

The laugh was more than he expected, the frantic sketches of Jesse eyes hoping to catch a glimpse of him in the shadows. 

 

“I would if there was a chance we wouldn’t die here. If the timing were better.” 

 

“Yeah...you picked a helluva time for it.” At least he could hear a smile. 

His hand reached forward into the dark, blindly feeling in front of him and caught a shoulder before he moved away and was gone, lost to the space somewhere in the dark. 

 

“Anything?” 

 

“I—” He pursed his lips, tongue running against his them and tasted blood. Then  _ him _ . “ ‘M sorry, I don’t—I can’t...It feels like something is there but...I don’t know what it is.” He stops himself from asking the question he knows he won’t get the answer to, sitting defeatedly  and hoping for answers from shadows. He hears the click, a small adjustment to something before the red light flickers alive, staring off into the corner of the room; his hand curled into his a tightly wound fist against the desk. “ ‘M sorry.”

 

“Shame.” 

 

Jesse stares at him a while, forcing himself to think of anything that he could be missing, the itch curling down the back of his throat and leaving him empty. Pushing up from the chair he huffs, the stiffness from the wound still fresh but thankfully had healed over enough to keep him on his feet for the time being. He was left unsure of what to say, what to ask or how to feel, some nagging emotion left a weight of what might’ve been missing hollow within his chest. Fingers crested through his hair in a quick sweep, letting the awkward quiet settle between them as he stood shamefully alone behind him. 

  
Knowing he was scarce a lighter, he dug into his pocket fishing through the contents of the old crumpled cigar packet that was soaked by blood, yanking the wet end of his pocket before flicking the metal tag out of his jeans and listened to it clatter on the floor and its echo drift between  them. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You've all been patience enough, seems like you deserved a reward ( ˘ ³˘) ♥   
> Thanks for joining me so far, the last chapter is coming soon~


	5. Chapter 5

Jesse looked the tag with a weighted knot in his chest, partial from the pain and knowing what more was to come from picking it up. But the hesitation of knowing that it too was another fragment of what vague memory he still had left stirred the pain in an uncomfortable sway. Fragments all scattered by the multiple threats of death, every harrowing escape leaving him crippled physically if not mentally under their tax, and still some how there came the resolve to keep going by the slim piece of metal always tucked in the depths of his pocket. There wasn’t much he could say, for however much he wanted to—puerility nagging at him to apologize though reason couldn’t find a means to do so—standing foolishly at his backside in the dark titian glow of his flickering visor. 

 

The light swung to face him, the menacing visage obscuring of the rest of him before the light spread across the floor the sliver of metal that Soldier reached to pick up. A sense of over protectiveness swam deep in the gunslinger’s chest, a painful step made as he extended his hand for the tag, jaw clenched tight enough to grind his teeth in audible clicks. 

“Hand it over,” He warned, fingers palsied held for the piece thought Soldier made no move to return it. The visor stared at him a moment, intentions unreadable before the visor dropped to look at the item in his palm where Jesse noticed the ardent study of his palm. There was a slight shift in his posture, something turning rigid as the fingers thumbed across the metal grooves made by numbers and old wear of the steel. 

 

“Where did you get this?” Hard gravel in his voice worked behind some unkempt emotion, attention wavering between Jesse and the tag. Jesse reached for the tag, plucking it back into his hand and felt the unease subside; thumb pressing smooth along the worried groove and tucked it deep into his pocket. 

 

“Don’t remember, but it’s mine an’ I’d ‘preciate havin’ it close to me. Got enough things to worry ‘bout, I ain’t need to go losin’ somethin’ important.” 

 

“Where did you get it from?” Jesse huffed, avoiding the answer as he slowly lurched back for the seat and palmed through the shadows for his hat. The muscles still ached despite the healing effects that rapidly regenerated his injuries, the body still lagging behind the repair nearly double over as he leaned to grab his hat from the floor and place it on top of his head. 

 

“What’s it got to do with what we’re doin’? Hell only knows they’re gonna find us up here, an’ we ain’t makin’ for any good time stuck in a room to ourselves.” Jesse wasn’t sure he could take the smothering awkwardness, the drumming in his chest not only from exhaustion but the frequent lingering of where he felt his lips in the dark. Rugged, and firm that held brimmed fidelity that unconsciously had him licking across his lips again. The raw sting of ripped skin and a lingering taste of ash. McCree’s mouth almost watered at the thought, senses overridden by the smokey taste that swept along his tongue—suddenly thankful the room was dark enough to hide the conflicted burn across his cheeks. 

 

Soldier stood quietly from him, attention clearly watching as he moved across the room and said nothing; stiff and astute, hands contemplating behind him. There came a sigh, red glaring against the door. 

 

“This ain’t  _ we _ , kid. I’ve got matters to settle before I’m done here so I’d suggest you get going while things are still quiet. Found what you were looking for weren’t you, information on the Reaper?” 

 

“I guess, don’t mean ’m just just gonna up an’ leave.” Jesse folded his arms against his chest, trying to steer the weight from his injured hip. “It ain’t even much to run off of but...good’a start as any. More than what I came with.” The dour tone relented his displeasure to the circumstance, an answer he wasn’t too sure he wanted. But one he had. And still no means for what to do with it.    
Silence bugging him, he made his way for the door unthumbing the lock and listening a moment before looking over his shoulder; Soldier taking up the gun from against the wall and affirming himself behind him. 

“You got what you needed here?” 

 

Soldier’s gloves adjusted against the rifle, looking the weapon over in his hands before the grip grew lose. “No, there’s still something I need to do.” Jesse pulled open the door and the quiet hum of electrical snaps greet them from somewhere in the distance. 

 

“Well, we better get to it.” 

  
  
  


The halls yawned forever in a maze of black, foundation having crumbled from the impact of the initial assault into piles of broken ceiling tiles and puddles of stagnant water from a nearby hissing pipe. The farther they progressed into the dark, the more Jesse felt the oncoming sense of dread; checking frequently over his shoulder for anyone following, softening the steps of his boots from too much clicks of the spurs. Soldier led them by the light of his visor, scanning the halls like a quiet sentry, gun held in a resting march as he paused at open paths between the rows of abandoned doors. 

 

The conscript veered from Jesse’s sight, disappearing beneath a sunken plafond that shrieked a spray of sparks and was quick to follow behind, seeing him press onward through a room and quickly pull Jesse in with him. “Shut the door, lock it behind you.” He ordered curtly, while his eyes made a quick scan of the room and headed for the dormant workstation in the far corner of the room. Jesse locked the door, sinking himself against it as he watched Soldier tilt the gun against the desk, and pull the small device from his pocket and toss it against the terminal, fingers already working against the keys to bring it alive. 

 

A holoscreen hummed alive, the same insignia appearing on screen before Soldier tapped the device and a glitch distorted the screen blue. Jesse joined him at the desk, shifting his weight into the desk at his side, and watched him curiously, noticing the brief commands punched into the keys before a notification chimed. 

 

**[ ACCESS GRANTED : ARTICLES-5821, IN. DIV. CP84 ]**

 

“What is it you do exactly?” Jesse asked, brows knitted firm above the purse of his lips. “You fight, you heal, you do all this  _ hackin’ _ business...Hard t’think you ain’t work for anyone.” 

 

“I don’t work for anyone.” Soldier stated simply, reaching for the display and running his fingers down a small list of names. An archive of old collections on blackmarket networkings, their dealers, supply and otherwise, neatly compiled in categorized sections. Spotting a tab marked Bounty, Soldier pressed it open and a flurry of dossiers appeared in multiple screens around the display, candid photos Talon’s enemies and their information advertised in neat portfolios. “Helps when you have a few contacts, know people that can give you what you need to be self sufficient.” Soldier stood from the desk, hands grabbing the displays of profiles before tossing them away.  “Not update to date with the latest advancements, but I can manage with the right tools for the job.” 

 

“Eh, you work too clean for someone self sufficient.” 

 

“Why do you say that?”    
  


“ ‘Unno, it’s just—nevermind.” Jesse leaned away from the desk, looking over the small profiles with a few conscious steps away. 

 

Soldier shrugged, tapping away the unneeded dossiers, watching the list thin out before his eyes rested on a capture of hooded figure with a cryptic looking mask obscuring their face--Shrike; a reticle glimmering in the nebulous center. Pulling the profile from the air, he hummed at the ledger, expanding open the file until an index of surveillance photos all appeared around the bounty card. All obscured and barely registered images of the cloaked figure wearing the same black mask, some the figure hidden behind cover with a rifle positioned for an out of view target.    
  
“Friend of yours?” Jesse asked, eyes skimming the dossier and rose a brow at the bounty. 

 

Soldier leaned back for the main terminal, pressing the small device beside it and watched as the file corroded into a ruptured display of fragmented pixels, nearly unreadable until it fizzled out into error messages. “Perhaps. Not sure yet.” 

 

“You coverin’ for someone then?” 

 

Jesse plucked a dossier from the air, revealing the profile of Soldier’s own mask to him before he twisted away to indulge amongst its contents. A short vita of the vigilante’s current efforts, mostly made of notations on stolen equipment and extortion charges, though nothing entirely on his agenda. A hand reached across his shoulder, yanking the display from his fingers before it too dissolved into the sputtering distortion at the other man’s request.    
  
“Doesn’t matter what I’m doing. Doesn’t concern you.”    
  
“Look I wouldn’t be standin’ here if I ain’t interested in what the hell’s goin’ on, because you are leavin’ out a few things that I deserve to know. ‘Specially ‘bout what happened in that  _ room _ .” Jesse stepped against the desk, a hard mesh of contrasting light spanned across his face, sharp angles of red that overcame the blue of the holodisplay. It was apparent the severity caught him offguard, Soldier retreating from the closure in breadth with an avoidant gaze. “You know me. I don’t know how, but I don’t like bein’ kept in the dark ‘bout it, if you ain’t here to kill me or take me in then how the hell did you end up here in the middle of the damn desert like I did, cause I won’t take it bein’a damn coincidence.” 

 

“Jesse…” 

 

“Don’t you  _ Jesse _ me, I ain’t a damn kid!”    
  
“This isn’t the time for this—”   
  
“Well I ain’t gonna wait ‘round ‘til it is. Talk!”    
  
Jesse could sense the forced patience from behind the visor, almost eager to pick a fight in spite of it all. He deserved answers for that. For additions to puzzling emotions that made everything worse, yet was still met by silence. There were small indications of starts, fingers twisting in the red gloves across his wrists, enough stalling motions to piss McCree off further the more things weighed between them. 

 

“What are you expectin’, kid?”    
  
Jesse’s shoulders deflated into a frustrated slump, fingers  smooth down his lips to his chin. “I don’t know alright, but you don’t go ‘round kissin’ people like that an’ not expect to have some answers as to why.”    
  
“You sure you can’t come up with any on your own.”    
  
“What the hell am I supposed to take from that! You’ve been wishy washy with me, you won’t give me the truth an’ you even said yourself you ain’t know if I was gonna believe you. An’ frankly I don’t, not in the least. An’ yet you still ain’t leave, you ain’t force me out or try an’ kill me, an’ ‘m gettin’ more concerned ‘bout this defendin’ shit if you ain’t gonna be right with me.”    
  
Soldier growled leaning into the table, glaring the blazing sights toward him.    
  
“Listen, I get you want answers, but face it, nobody is obligated to give them to you. Despite what you want. Now I can’t fix what you’re missin’, McCree. I can’t. I’ve—accepted that. But I’ve got a job to do too, with or without your approval, and right now ain’t the time to be arguin’ about what’s going on. I—I  _ wish _ it was. But...I can’t, Jes.” He sounded weak behind the mask, fingers soothing an old ache across his shoulder to avoid the discomfort the conversation made more than the pain. “We got our reasons, right?” 

 

Jesse scoffed an angry bitter huff, chewing fierce on his lip as her fought to curb the heat flush in his cheeks, frustration percolating in his chest so immense he could hear the metal creak of his fist again that warned him to let it go. He’d been the one to withdraw from demanding answers prior their exchange. And for however unfair it had felt to withdraw again, he wasn’t keen on letting his own words be used against him. He stomped for the door, spurs chirping behind him as he pulled the door open and let himself out into the depth of the hall. 

 

“I’m just doing my job, Jesse.” Soldier looked at the few remaining dockets scattered across the display and soon noticed the familiar visage of McCree’s dossier; a longer list of information, on top of a collection of pictures including the few he’d recognized from media coverage. Jesse was too busy with his back turned to watch the dossier dissolve in a static snow before an error message corroded the file completely inert. 

  
  
  


Propped against the wall, Jesse leaned with his ankles crossed looking severely into the dark. His eyes flickered toward the small snaps of wire sparks in the corner, listening to the wailing groans of the building creaking against the supports and wondered how long it was going to take before the build crumbled in on itself. Given the devastation of the front portion of the foundation, a few solid hits with enough force could sink the center of the building into a pit of rubble and broken debris. A sound a idea since the building was still fairly new, wasn’t enough to stop a couple of vigilantes it seemed. 

 

Jesse heard the creak of the door open a little ways down the hall, red filling the walls before he pushing himself up from his lean and quietly ambled toward the Soldier; a firm expression meant to conceal the frustrated peak in his brow. “We done?”    
  
Soldier gave a curt nod, fingers curling into resolved fists as he griped the rifle at his hip and retraced their route back toward the staircase in grim conviction. Jesse kept his distance, mindful of the slow clicks of his spurs as they crept through the dark by the lamplight of the visor and rubbed his fingers against the webbing of biotics that had sealed over the bullet wound in his hip, the pocket of his jeans caked with crusted over blood and wafted their sickening iron smell that made his nose scrunch. There was a sharp snap of electricity from his right, a broken cable dangling from the ceiling within a broken tile piece, scattering the bright blue embers across the floor and shined against a metal surface. 

 

One that moved. 

 

He felt his limbs tighten, pausing with his heartbeat to stare carefully at the dark, awaiting another electric snap that never came. He spun around, glancing over his shoulder before another shadow brisky moved through the darkness just from the corner of his eye, a dismal chill rising across his arm. Looking to the Soldier’s leather jacket he didn’t seem to notice something caught with him amongst the dark, moving his pace a little quicker to breach the gap before he heard a tinny roll clatter across the tiles behind him. 

There wasn’t any time to think, just to act. 

 

The hall hissed with a smoky breath that steadily filled the air in a thick coat of fog, and Jesse ripped the gun from his holster feeling his muscles struggle to amend to the movement. The shroud intensified until Jesse soon separated from Jack by the screen, and several pairs of glowing red eyes blinked in through the haze. The gunslinger flicker his wrist toward the first set he could see, finger squeeze through trigger in a rapid fire shot before the chaos ensued in an ambush of steeled boots and Talon agents. Another volley of gunfire spread across the hall, Jesse skipping around through the smoke as he leapt from the middle of the hall toward the edge. A spray of the rifle fire struck past his hat, a snarl concealed close by before a Talon agent swung wildly at his feet. 

 

Soldier rushed through the smoke, an arm pulling Jesse roughly down before the wall the leaned against was peppered in gunfire.    
  
“Keep to me, fire where I tell you, got it!” 

 

He propped the gun into position firing a long steady, burst that pushed the advance forward before nudge Jesse up beside him, rushing him frantically down the hall through the fog. “Shoot left, dead center.”    
  
Without missing a beat, Jesse across the broad Soldier’s shoulder, Wrist crested across back as he caught the glint of red eyes through the smoke and fired straight down his sight. The red visage flickered before the body dropped and he pushed onward with his companion down the hall. Moving alongside Soldier, Jesse was suddenly knocked from his feet, his leg swept from underneath him and stretched to brace his fall with his metal arm. A foot when in for his chest before Soldier burst into view with a vicious assault of the rifle jammed into the jugular of the assailant, slamming them back into the wall in a guttural croak. 

 

Jesse twisted onto his side, a sharp stab  from his hip where he could feel the wound tearing open and staggered to his knees. An arm roughly yanked him to his feet, Soldier steady him before a shock of bullets storm the peak of his shoulder and tear the leather to shreds. Soldier grasped his arm, the gun dropped against his knee as Jesse scrambled to his feet and held up his arm from the next shred of gunfire. 

 

“We’re sittin’ duck out in th’open! We gotta move!” 

There was little movement between the narrow passage of halls that branched into grated ends, the relentless labyrinth that charged their disadvantage as they escaped through another wider berth of the halls and pushed through a set of doors with the pursuit of agents wildly behind them. 

 

Jesse could feel the burn in his lungs, a throbbing ache dull in his hip as he forced himself to run; the both of them haggard from their minimal chance of respite in between—silently chiding himself from getting worked up in the room, which could easily have led them straight toward them. The trampled through the doors, agents closing in behind them with small trigger bursts, shrill reports of rochette scraping his heels and he reached for the flashbang canister at his hip and tore the cap off with his teeth. 

 

He twisted to pitch the canister at the mobs feet, a stunning shock of paralyzing lights left the Talon advance easily stumbling over one another, with enough time for Soldier to rush in back with a mighty swing of his rifle and deft shots to the fallen agents. Jesse caught his flank, several shot aimed just at the legs before he unloaded the rest of his gun into his unlucky target and watched him topple onto the floor. He dashed on ahead, sweeping his leg to catch an agent behind the knee but missed; the butt end of a rifle smacked firm across his jaw and sent him spinning back before Soldier lunged into the attack. 

 

A hot, sickening liquid filled his mouth before Jesse coughed a wet spray of blood to the floor, looking back to the see the agent take a low swing against the Soldier’s chest and quickly strike a firm crack against the visor where the red glass had shattered and the visor’s light flickered dead. Jesse forced himself upright, the gun rattling between his fingers before he squeezed the trigger just at the base of the agents neck, piercing the fleshy space between the tactical gear and listened to the last burdened slump fall to the floor. 

 

Soldier doubled over, batting away shards and pieces that mixed between the bloody wound across his temple where Jesse could just barely make out the exposed portion of his face; a harsh gleam of his eye and some length of the scar that split his face beneath the rest of the mask. He swallowed, a wash of blood and spit curdling down his throat in a nasty mess he wiped against his shoulder and buckled slightly from the pain his body couldn’t adhere to. Bruises felt painful under every beat of his heart, the mix of bloody wads spit from his mouth until it was bearable and feeling less of the napalm heat within his lungs. 

 

“We can’t keep this up, fella...I ain’t cut for too many punches.” Jesse looked to the set of yellow cylinders strapped across the leather guard of Soldier’s arm, before he braced against his knees; pushing his fingers through the thatch of greasy, brown hair. 

 

“Bets are we ain’t go much time left here before they regroup and gun us both down...we need to—” A shout cut them off from beyond the door, before they broke out into a run stumbling blindly through the dark while the red light of the visor strobing in painful flashes , enough to grant them sight of a diverting entrance and pressed through. Beyond the room the long hallway held only a metal grate, one of the security doors left unlocked just before the red lamp of the emergency light; a path toward the other end of the roof where McCree had first entered from its other end. Soldier sped toward the door, yanking it open as Jesse pushed past the door and further into the hall. Behind him he heard the door slam closed, skirting to a stop and seeing the hall separated with Soldier on the other side. 

 

“The hell you doin’! We’ve got t’get out of here!” Jesse twisted back to snatch the bar of the door, futile efforts against the locked hatch before he caught the forlorned eye that watched him from the cracked piece of the visor. Soldier sighed, fingers slipping from the bar of the door and taking a small step back. 

 

“I’m not going with.” 

 

“The hell you mean you ain’t goin’ with! You can’t take them on, I could hardly get outta here alive you an’ you expect me to just _ leave _ . There ain’t no damn point if you’re just gonna die some useless death when we could get the hell out!” Jesse seized the door, violently yanking against the bar to a useless end. 

 

“I’ve still got something to take care of here, McCree, you saw what they have here. Files, on all of us. Others like us out there. Who knows what the hell they may have stored in this place.”    
  
“The hell with it, they can goddamn have it for all I care.  _ Open _ the damn door!” 

 

The eye narrowed behind the visor, brows pulled tight in a firm frown, as Soldier stepped for the door and yanked Jesse by the serape in a tight grip. “I said leave. There’s no arguin’ about this, you don’t get a choice. I’ve already made it. I’m not letting you die here when you’ve got people out there to warn, and make sure they keep their heads low. I’m not dead yet, and they’re gonna have a hell of a time trying to kill me.” The grip loosened from around Jesse’s neck, yet kept him close between the space of metal. 

 

“I know you’re angry, and you’re looking for answers, kid, but dying ain’t a way to find them. You and I both know that. Lot more than we let on, okay.” 

 

The severity Jesse held looked unconvinced, though he listened behind the barrier between them.    
  
“Please, Jes, just—”   
  
“Don’t call me that.” Jesse snarled, ripping himself from the hold and pushed the folds of his serape across his shoulders. “You ain’t got no damn reason to be callin’ me that, let alone actin’ like you know who the fuck I am outside of things when you’re just going to abandon me to be a martyr. Ain’t no shame in runnin’...because face it, fella, our odds ain’t lookin’ less than grim.” 

 

Soldier watched him a moment before the flood of fatigue hit was little of his expression he could meet, a long distant and wartorn look caught in the light iris of a man who only nodded; understanding what decision meant. He set the rifle down against his leg, and reached for the strap that covered over his collar, popping the buttons to the black tactical plate underneath and dug his hands under the folds of his collar and produced a small chain. He unsnapped the chain from his neck and twisted a slim, metal tag around his fingers, extending them through the bars. 

 

“Take it.” 

 

Jesse frowned, looking at the small piece in his hand beginning to speak before Soldier stopped him. 

 

“They belong to a set, don’t go leavin’ ‘em behind this time.” 

 

“What are you—”

 

Soldier tugged him through the bars, pushing the tag into his hand with a firm press into his palm. “Stop asking questions. We don’t have time for it. You got things to do, people to protect, just like I do.” He wouldn’t look at him, fingers tight across the glove that held the metal tag between Jesse’s hand and wavered behind the visor’s flickering light. “Hold onto these for me, cowboy.”

 

Jesse swallowed, a somber ache in his chest growing cold as he clutched the tag in his hands; another desperate search to the stranger’s face for answer to a question he didn’t know.  _ Why me?  _  He watched him take up the gun, saying nothing as he affirmed him with a nod and turned away to descend back into the the facility alone, sturdy shoulders set tall and rigid, but carried a weight with no pride while Jesse watched his back escape the exit and leave him alone in the empty hall and the painful grip around the metal tag in his palm.

 

* * *

  
  


The chill dawn of the morning crept just below the horizon into the sea of the desert, winds ripping violently at the scarlet cloak across his shoulders as Jesse painfully stepped through pitfalls of sand and gravel; painfully staving off the hollow emptiness in his chest as he escaped from the facility. Alone into the morning. 

His fingers hurt, tightly squeezed around the tag he clutched tight into his hand—too fearful of looking at what was placed there, refusing to look back to the facility in regard that something would insist he turn back. To go after him, make him reconsider. But slowly he pushed his way through the sand with a hand clutched against his hat and the other with the tag to his chest.

Before long he heard the dull cough of an explosion roar behind him, twisting to the see the plume of fire that belched a toxic cloud into the sky and felt his breath catch tight in his chest. Jesse watched the smoke carried along with the wind as the sky warped from blue to dusky feathers of yellow light, and the stark black pother drift far across the sand. His eyes dropped to the tag within his palm, a choke of breath gasped within his throat before he looks away from the morning , feeling the cold and bitter wind embrace his chest.

  
“...Jack.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And at last the closing end to our story, hopefully the wait wasn't too unbearable. This is my first fic ( despite the fact that I have so MANY more drafted and in the works ) but I'm really glad that I was able to share it with you all from the help of my good friend galatiicace and our relentless torturing of each other with these two. Thank you all so much for your feedback and your interest, I do hope to share more with the MC76 tag in the future! (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵)و

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [On Melancholy Hill](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10445289) by [galactiicace](https://archiveofourown.org/users/galactiicace/pseuds/galactiicace)




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